


You Can't Quit Reality

by HenceNothingRemains



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, But boy that doesn't last long, But only in Act II, Did I mention there are rubber ducks?, I realized I hadn't named this story when I went to type in the title, Jake is just such a nice guy in this story, Jeremy starts off popular, Lots of rubber ducks, Multi, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T READ IF THAT TRIGGERS YOU, Rich is called Richie btw, Rubber Ducks, Self-Harm, Suicide, The SQUIP is called Eric and them's the facts, The whole SQUIP squad is, Unhealthy Relationships, oh god so much angst, reverse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenceNothingRemains/pseuds/HenceNothingRemains
Summary: Jeremy Heere is popular, Eric Tanner is his best friend, and one supercomputer named MICAH is intent on completing his mission. There's only one question-- what is the price of being a loser? If you ask Richie Goranski, it's $3.99, but Jeremy quickly learns this is not exactly the case.





	1. Act I: A MICAH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epigraph: 
> 
> "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."  
> -Leo Tolstoy

Jeremy navigated the all too familiar crowds of school. Even if he didn't recognize a face, that person likely recognized Jeremy anyway. Jeremy could turn down anywhere from one to ten dates a day, and he was probably asked out due to his looks and status more than his personality and interests. At least, that's what Eric told Jeremy.

Eric Tanner had been Jeremy’s best friend since they were in diapers. They listened to the same music, ate the same food, and dated the same girls. Jeremy was now on Eric’s ex #3, Brooke Lohst. Eric had probably been with more women than Clooney by the eleventh grade, according to Jeremy’s calculations. Eric set Jeremy up with Brooke because he thought they would look cute together, and because it would make Christine Canigula jealous. Christine was, of course, the person Jeremy _actually_ wanted to date. She was sweet and kind, like Brooke, but unlike the other girls at school, she was an individual-- she didn't let her popularity dictate who she was. Eric didn't really get why Jeremy was so into Christine, but he still made it his duty to act as wingman.

Jeremy walked past Eric, stopping to chat.

“Morning, Heere,” Eric said formally, nodding his head. Jeremy giggled as his friend broke character, playfully punching Jeremy on the shoulder. “You seen Brooke yet?”

“Uh, no,” Jeremy replied.

“Word is, she cut her hair.”

“Like, to her shoulders?”

“Worse,” Eric leaned against a wall of lockers. “Pixie cut. Dyed pink.”

“No,” Jeremy gasped. He hadn't been able to spend the weekend with his girlfriend, and he couldn't believe that in the two days he'd left her alone, she'd gone batshit insane.

“Yeah. And not even pastel pink,” Eric added. “Brooke apparently doesn't have _any_ taste.”

“Why? Is it that bad?”

“Her hair is _fuchsia_. It _is_ that bad.”

As if on cue, Brooke came running toward the two boys. Eric was spot on-- Brooke was sporting a denim jacket and yellow dress that complimented her new fuchsia pixie cut. Jeremy plastered on a fake smile.

“Jeremy! How was your weekend?” Brooke asked, oblivious the look of amusement that was spread across Eric’s face.

“It was, uh…” Jeremy trailed off, too distracted by Brooke’s hair to think of a response. Eric stepped closer.

“It was fantastic,” Eric lied. “Jeremy and I went down to the beach for the weekend.”

Jeremy shot a confused look at Eric. He _hadn't_ gone to _any_ beach over the weekend, and neither had Eric. Eric always had a way of embellishing the truth, but this was a flat-out lie.

“Oh…” Brooke looked disappointed.

“Perhaps Jeremy can take _you_ next time,” Eric consoled her. Brooke’s eyes lit up instantly.

“Yeah,” Jeremy added awkwardly, making an effort to help Eric with the conversation.

Brooke stared at Jeremy expectantly. Eric nudged him, but Jeremy didn't know what he was supposed to do.

“Love the hair, Brooke,” Eric said after waiting in an eternity of silence.

“Oh, yeah! Your hair is super cool,” Jeremy added.

“Thanks,” Brooke leaned up and gave Jeremy a quick kiss. “I better get going!” She added quickly, running off in the direction she came.

“Nice going, Jeremy,” Eric said flatly.

“Uhhh, thanks?” Jeremy said. There wasn't any point-- he had put Eric in a bad mood, and there was no amount of kindness that could get him out of it.

“You couldn't even _talk_ to Brooke. What the hell _was_ that?” Eric asked, opening up a nearby locker. He rifled through it as Jeremy thought of a response.  
“I was, um… thrown off my game? With the hair, and the beach, and--”  
“You're _lucky_ I thought of the beach. You might have accidentally said something about your mom’s house. Nobody wants to hear about your divorced parents, _Jeremy_.”

“I wasn't gonna tell her about going to my mom’s!” Jeremy defended himself.

“Then what would you have said?” Eric pulled a few books out of his locker and slammed it shut. He and Jeremy stood there for a moment, eyes locked in matching glares. Eric got bored at turned away, walking toward his first class.

“Call me. We can play Xbox tonight,” Eric said without turning back around to wait for a response.

Jeremy looked around the hallway. He desperately wanted to talk to someone else to ease his mind a bit. Talking to Eric always ended this way; Jeremy felt like he had done something wrong. Luckily, there was always someone who wanted to talk to Jeremy Heere. Today, it was Jake Dillinger.

“Sup, Jeremy?” Jake asked, casually walking up to where Jeremy stood, nervously pulling at the hem of his shirt. Old habits like this one always resurfaced when Eric left the room.

“Just, uh,” Jeremy checked a clock that hung on the wall. “I should be getting to class.” He really didn't want to talk to Jake. Jake was Christine’s current boyfriend, and though he wasn't aware that Jeremy was crushing on Christine, Jeremy still felt uneasy around Jake.

“Real quick, I got a question.”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna come to my Halloween party this year?” Jake asked. "I know you missed last year and all, so I wanted to make sure you know you're invited." 

Jeremy thought about what would happen if he said no-- obviously, he'd get a nice night to himself, or maybe to play video games with Eric. Then again, Eric would probably be at the party, much like everyone else in the entire school. Unfortunately, saying no would also mean losing a chance to move up to social ladder, and mass confusion as to why Jeremy Heere didn't attend the biggest party of the fall. So, naturally, Jeremy had to accept the invitation.

“Totally. I'll be there,” Jeremy said, regretting every word that came out of his mouth. He'd have to go with Brooke, with her pink hair and annoying chattering, get so drunk he would have the worst headache of his life the next morning, and be coerced into sex with a girl he didn't really care about. This was the life of popularity.

“Great. And don't forget to bring Brooke! Man, I am _obsessed_ with that new hair,” Jake said enthusiastically, walking away.  
Jeremy began walking to his class, hoping he could make it before the bell. He veered left and entered the men’s room, the final detour on his journey. He quickly used the nearest urinal, then washed his hands as another boy walked in. It was, unfortunately, Richie. He wore a dark hoodie, red converse, and carried a backpack that said “gay” in capital letters. Chloe had written it on last April, as a prank. It got her suspended, but everyone agreed that it was worth it. From others' opinions, Jeremy concluded that he was about to be either offered drugs or a blowjob, and he really didn't want to find out which it would be.

“Yo, tall-ass,” Richie called as Jeremy prepared the leave. Despite his better judgement, Jeremy turned around.

“Yeah?”

“You got a sec?”

“Not really, I--”

“Get over here, tall ass.”

Jeremy was intimidated by Richie. He'd heard plenty of stories about school shooters, and they were almost always bullied in high school. Being associated with the bully, Jeremy thought it would be better to do whatever Richie said.

“You don't remember me freshman year, do you?” Richie asked.

“You didn't go here freshman year..?”

“Yes I did!” Richie smiled, but it looked somewhat unhinged. “Thing is, I went by Dick back then.”

Jeremy couldn't help but laugh.

“I'm sorry, Dick? You're not… you're not Dick Goranski, are you?” Jeremy asked. Jeremy wasn't popular during freshman year, but he faintly remembered that Jake used to have a friend named Dick.

“I am,” Richie responded.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. And,” Richie paused.

“Something tells me you aren't liking your popularity too much.”

Jeremy took a step back. He heard the bell faintly go off, but he didn't think leaving was a good idea.

“Uh, says who?” Jeremy asked uneasily. The only person he had actual conversations with was Eric, and it didn't seem like his best friend would tell Richie _anything_ , let alone something that could tarnish Jeremy’s reputation.

“A friend of mine.”

“I really should get going, the bell--”

“The bell can wait! This is the first day of your new life, Jeremy,” Richie paused dramatically. “You need a MICAH.”

“M-Micah? I don’t know anyone named--”  
“Not Micah. MICAH.”

“I still don’t think I understand.”

“Microtechnology Information Compressor... and ‘Helper,’” Richie used a different awkward hand gesture with each word, like he’d rehearsed this, or read it off of a script. Jeremy squinted.

“Why did you make little air quotes around the word ‘helper’?”

“This thing, overall, exists to assist you in making a fool of yourself. It helps you be the loser, geek, or whatever you want to be, Jeremy.”

“And where do I find this thing? Uh, not that I’m going to get one, but, uh… you know. Just curious,” Jeremy thought Eric probably would have cut him off by now. If not for his terrible stammering, for his terrible lying. Jeremy was seriously considering whatever this thing was. An app or wikihow article, or whatever the hell a MICAH was, sounded like it might be the easy-out that Jeremy had always wanted.

“It’s a pill.”

Jeremy turned around immediately and left the bathroom.

“Wait, come back!”

“Sorry, I’m not interested in drugs, Richie!” Jeremy shouted back. He was well out of the bathroom now, but when Richie kept following him, Jeremy stopped in his tracks. He had to deal with Richie before a teacher found them in the halls during first period.

“It’s legit, I swear! I got them from a guy at Spencer’s Gifts!”

“Richie. You got them at a _Spencer’s_.”

“But look at me now. I was the famed Dick Goranski, attending ten parties a week and sleeping with double that amount of girls. But then, I got a MICAH. And I’m… happy. Do you want to be happy, Jeremy?”

Jeremy looked around the hall anxiously.

“Because now, happiness has a price, and that price is $3.99.”

“Four hundred dollars?!”

“No, Jeremy. Three dollars and ninety-nine cents.”

“Oh. Uh, I’ll... think about it,” Jeremy said, much to his own surprise. He booked it down the hall, but Richie didn’t follow him this time, which Jeremy thought was odd. He kept moving anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, why do all my stories end up being nine chapters long?
> 
> Second, I'm following a release schedule-- a new chapter will come out every Wednesday. 
> 
> Third, this is my reverse AU for Be More Chill. I started working on it for camp nanowrimo, and reached my goal of 18,000 words. However, you may not be seeing some of the words I wrote for a very, very long time. I've cut one of the chapters, which I'll be publishing separately after this story is completely published. You'll see why. 
> 
> Fourth, and finally, this book is currently on hiatus. I have all the chapters completed, so I will be resuming the publishing schedule in a few weeks. Thank you. 
> 
> If you missed it...  
> Jeremy: Popular  
> Eric: SQUIP, popular  
> Richie/Dick: Rich, a loser


	2. Act I: The Tanner Household

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epigraph:
> 
> "Go oft to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path."  
> -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Jeremy shut the door to Eric’s bedroom, hopping onto his friend’s bed. Eric looked up from the glow of his phone screenand smiled warmly at Jeremy. 

“It's about time you showed up,” Eric said, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “What are we playing today, Jeremy?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. Something weird happened today,” Jeremy started nervously pulling on the fabric of his striped shirt, but Eric grabbed Jeremy’s hand and held it away from his shirt, twining their fingers together. 

“We can talk and play at the same time,” Eric countered, leaving the annoyance unaddressed and Jeremy’s hand in his. Jeremy knew better than to pull it away; Eric was very particular about what Jeremy could and could not do, and one of those things that he could not do was end anything Eric initiated. 

“ _Call of Duty_? Er, to play. On the Xbox. Let's play _Call of Duty_.”

“Sounds good to me,” Eric grinned, dropping Jeremy’s hand to grab a remote. He switched on the television that hung overhead (Jeremy envied Eric’s wealth every moment of his life), pulling two controllers from his nightstand drawer. 

“Now what was it you wanted to talk about?” Eric asked as he turned the game on. 

“You know, uh, Richie?”

“Don't get me fucking started,” Eric said, his eyes narrowing.

“Wow, I didn't know you felt that strongly about him.”

“Here's the tea-- he's a fucking asshole. Not that you didn't already know that,” Eric paused to quirk an eyebrow at Jeremy. “Why are we even talking about him?”

“He, uh… you know how I, um… well, i-it's just that--”

“You're stuttering, Jeremy.” 

Eric looked unamused. Jeremy fidgeted, trying to collect his thoughts into a cohesive sentence. 

“Richie offered me a miracle drug that would help me… end… my popularity?” Jeremy didn't mean for the final word to come out like a question, but it did, nonetheless. 

“End your popularity?” Eric laughed, but it seemed more forced than usual. “After we worked so hard to get you where you are today?” 

“Well, we did work hard, but…” Jeremy’s mind blanked. 

_Oh, no. I'm being super rude to him. Oh my god._

“But?”

“Nevermind. Uh, I just, ah--”

“No, not nevermind. And, you're stuttering again,” Eric said, setting down his game controller. “I need to make it very clear to you that you cannot stop being popular.”

“Afsht-- huh?” Jeremy yelped as Eric grabbed the collar of Jeremy’s shirt, pulling him closer across the bed. 

“I am the best thing that ever happened to you, Heere. Don't even think about turning into a nerd or a theater kid or whatever else that freak told you to be. Besides,” Eric’s scowl suddenly melted into a sweet smile, one that _almost_ eased the anxiety he had triggered in Jeremy.

“What would I do without my best friend?” Eric let go of Jeremy’s collar, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.  
And with that, both boys turned back to their video game, not another word spoken for the next forty-five minutes.

 

It was exactly 6:00 p.m. when Eric’s mom called Jeremy and Eric downstairs for dinner. She was eerily predictable and punctual, as was every member of the Tanner family. All of Eric’s relatives had their quirks-- one was a movie star, one collected bottle caps, another was a polygamist, and so forth-- but they all appeared to be cut from the same stone. Shiny, curly black hair, high cheekbones beneath ghostly pale skin, and blue eyes that could mesmerize you, seduce you, and see right through any lie you told. It was this terrible combination of flawless creation that made Jeremy feel so out of place any time he had dinner at Eric’s house. But, since Jeremy’s father was rarely at home, and the sight of him cooking was even more rare, Jeremy had no other sure way to get meals anymore. 

“Jeremy, I'm so glad to have you join us tonight,” Mr. Tanner said stiffly, his voice reflecting none of the emotion which his words should have carried. 

“Uh, yeah… thanks for having me,” Jeremy replied as he took a seat at the dining room table. Eric sat down across from Jeremy, leaving two seats left for Eric’s parents to sit on either side of him. 

“Of course. We love having you here, you know. It's like having another son, isn't it, honey?” Mrs. Tanner turned looked at her husband, picking up two plates to bring to the table. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail that bobbed up and down as she walked. 

Mr. Tanner nodded and brought the other two plates in behind his wife. Eric’s father was stoic and rarely added anything to the conversation. He was the CEO of some big tech company, so he was barely ever at Eric’s house to begin with.

Jeremy’s eyes lit up when his plate was set in front him-- lasagna. Eric’s parents knew it was Jeremy’s favorite, so they made it at _least_ once every month. Somehow, Jeremy still hadn't gotten tired of it yet. Even if he did eventually get tired of it, he wouldn't have the heart to tell them. Jeremy thought himself lucky to have people care about him as much as Eric’s family did. 

Dinner passed with conversations that held little to no importance; Jeremy’s grades, which led to Jeremy’s girlfriend, which led to the next football game, which somehow led to Mrs. Tanner’s recountment of her last dentist appointment, though not even Jeremy was sure how that had come up once dinner was over and he was walking home. 

Eric came running up behind Jeremy, who slowed down to allow Eric to catch up to him. Once Eric reached him, Jeremy made a full stop to let Eric catch his breath. They were nearly a block from Eric’s house now, and only a few more from Jeremy’s house. 

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked once Eric’s breathing appeared to have evened out. 

“I was going to walk you home.”

“Eric, you've… never walked me home before.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I don't know, it's just a little… weird, I guess?” 

Jeremy resisted the urge to pull at the soft fabric of his shirt, for fear of upsetting Eric. The last thing he needed was for some popular kid to drive past and see Eric holding his hand. 

_On second thought,_ Jeremy countered his own thoughts, _that might help end my reign as Popular Fuckboy Extraordinaire._

“What's weird about this?” Eric asked as he began walking down the sidewalk. Jeremy instinctively followed after him despite his skepticism. “I'm just being a gentleman.”

“Okay…” Jeremy said, still trying to gauge Eric’s actual intent. After a few minutes of silent walking, Eric finally started conversation, not that Jeremy particularly wanted to talk to Eric at the moment. Jeremy was still a little uneasy after Eric’s outburst in the bedroom. Eric was a very physical person, but he usually didn't use that to threaten Jeremy.

“Say you do take this drug. What then?” Eric asked quietly. 

“I dunno. Break up with Brooke? Ditch Jake’s Halloween party?”

“You, uh… you really don't like being popular?”

“Popular people suck, Eric. I'd honestly give anything to get away from those lunatics, even if it means Chloe writing ‘gay’ on my backpack.”

Eric laughed uncomfortably. Jeremy raised an eyebrow. 

“You mean… if you, you know, took this drug-- not that you would-- you mean, you'd stop hanging out with me?” Eric asked. Jeremy didn't think he'd ever seen Eric look anything but angry or smug. This was something different entirely-- he looked hurt. Actually, _really_ hurt by something Jeremy had said. 

“Eric, no. You're, like, my best friend. Come on.” Jeremy awkwardly patted Eric on the shoulder, but it didn't seem to console him any. 

Jeremy realized they'd reached the front door to his house. He stopped and pulled Eric into a hug, but received no response. 

_That's weird,_ Jeremy realized, _I don't think I've hugged Eric since we were kids._

It wasn't intentional, but Jeremy still felt strange for not hugging Eric sooner. Jeremy tried to gauge how long he should hug Eric for, and when Eric hadn't put his arms around Jeremy for several very awkward seconds of self-reflection, Jeremy pulled away. Eric stared at Jeremy for a few moments, scanning his eyes up and down, like a computer collecting data, and then walked back they way he came without another word. 

Jeremy quickly shook off the odd exchange, letting himself into the house and rushing upstairs without a word to his father. He flipped up the screen on his laptop, googling “Micah drug.” After scrolling through endless pages of _not what he wanted,_ Jeremy gave up his search. 

_I mean, what's not on the internet these days? Richie must be scamming me._

Jeremy closed the tab and got ready for bed. 

_Tomorrow, I'll go to Spencer’s, and prove this one way or another._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eric needs to chill.


	3. Act I: Advent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epigraph:
> 
> “You'll always be curious yet deliriously sinking into whatever your nightmare is until you let your wings know you're serious by leaping into your wildest dreams of self love.”  
> -Curtis Tyrone Jones

Jeremy fastened his seatbelt. Eric’s car still smelled brand new, even though he'd had it a year now. Jeremy speculated that this was also a Tanner thing. Eric never let any sort of food or drinks in his car, which probably helped keep it clean. Jeremy didn't have a car of his own, but sometimes he stole his dad’s, which was filthy. He much preferred driving with Eric.

It only took a few minutes to drive from school to the mall. Jeremy and Eric agreed on the way that they'd check out Spencer's before going to Eric’s house that evening.

“Jeremiah Heere, I have never met a person with so much trust in my entire life,” Eric said as they walked through the entrance to Spencer’s.

“And I've never met someone so willing to indulge me in my pointless quests before,” Jeremy replied dramatically. Eric chuckled, Jeremy leading the way to the back of the store.

Eric had never been inside a Spencer’s before. It was probably due to his Christian upbringing (though Eric himself didn't believe in religion), or the fact that Eric considered himself too good to shop anywhere that wouldn't bankrupt Jeremy in one shopping trip. But, there he was, walking a few paces behind Jeremy and mildly scandalized.

“Of course Richie would make us go to the trashiest place inside the entire mall,” Eric commented.

Once they reached the door to the stockroom, Jeremy froze. He hadn't really thought of a plan. What would he do? Walk in and search for drugs? He was sure that there would be some sort of drugs back there, but probably not some mythical loser-drug with a cute name.

Eric reached out and knocked on the door.

Jeremy honestly had no idea if this was socially acceptable or not. Regardless, a stock boy opened up the door to glare at Jeremy and Eric.

“Yeah?” The stock boy said impatiently. He was kind of dirty looking and really short compared to Jeremy. He was even shorter than Eric, which must have made him below average height, Jeremy thought to himself.

“Hello, yes, a friend has recommended we come here to get a MICAH,” Eric said, glancing at Jeremy, who couldn't put any words together.

“Keep it down. We don't have many left,” The stock boy went back into the stockroom with Jeremy and Eric at his heels.

The stock boy found a ziplock bag filled with small gray pills. He pulled one out and looked between Jeremy and Eric. The stock boy reached for another, but Eric shook his head.

“I don't want one, but thank you. The MICAH is for this guy,” Eric said, lightly elbowing Jeremy.

The stock boy handed Jeremy the pill.

“To activate it, you have to drink it with Pepsi. I don't know why, it's just something about that drink. Goodbye and good luck, buddy,” The stock boy said.

“Wait, we didn't--” Eric cut Jeremy off by linking their arms and walking out of the stockroom quickly. Once they were a safe distance away, Jeremy whispered to Eric, “We didn't pay that guy for the MICAH, Eric.”

“I know. You're welcome,” Eric said smugly, leading Jeremy arm-in-arm to the food court.

Jeremy bought a bottle of Pepsi at the nearest fast food stand, then headed back to Eric, who had reserved a table for them.

“Here goes nothing,” Jeremy said, sitting down.

Eric looked anxious.

Jeremy popped the pill in his mouth, swallowing it with a mouthful of Pepsi. Jeremy had always been more of a Coke person himself, but he was willing to suffer for the promise of a better future.

“Well? Do you feel any different?” Eric asked, staring at Jeremy intensely.

Jeremy waited a few seconds, hoping for something to happen.

“No… I guess not.”

“That guy probably gave you some sort of illegal drug.”

“Oh my god, what if it was a roofie or something?!” Jeremy stared down at the bottle of Pepsi with disgust.

“Don't be stupid. Rohypnol would be either green or white, not gray. Besides, if someone really wanted to drug you, they'd crush up the Rohypnol and put it in your drink.”

Jeremy looked at Eric curiously.

“Why do you know that?”

Eric shrugged.

“I know a lot of things, Jeremy. I've been to a lot of parties. I know what to look for now.”

Jeremy looked down at the table. He didn't know how to respond to that information, and frankly, he didn't know exactly what it implied about Eric at all. But something about it felt off.

“Well, if you're finished downing placebos from Spencer’s, I'd like to--”

Jeremy cried out suddenly, pain shooting up his spine and connecting with his head.

“Target social class inaccessible… Calibration in progress; please excuse some mild discomfort,” A laid-back voice began echoing through Jeremy’s mind. The voice seemed as though it was in no rush to hurry along as Jeremy began screaming in pain. Whatever this was, it hurt like hell.

“Jeremy, what’s wrong?” Eric ran to Jeremy’s side. “Stop freaking out, okay? You’re fine.”

_Jeremy was not fine._

“Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated.”

“Wait, wait, I think I’m…” Jeremy tried to catch his breath.

“Discomfort level may increase.”  
Jeremy screamed again, and this time, Eric couldn’t sit back and watch. He grabbed Jeremy’s shoulders.

“You’re okay, Jeremy, you’re okay. Let’s get you out of here.”

“Accessing neural memory,” A noise clicked in Jeremy’s brain to accent each of the disembodied voice’s words. “Accessing muscle memory. Access procedure complete.”

Jeremy felt a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around, and before him stood a short boy with glasses and a hoodie, emitting a faint red glow.

“Jeremy Heere, welcome to your Microtechnology Information Compressor… and ‘Helper.’” The boy raised his hands to make air quotes around the final word.

Jeremy frowned. Eric was trying to get Jeremy to turn around now, but Jeremy was too shocked to process anything.

“Your MICAH.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MICAH makes an entrance!


	4. Act I: Fix Everything About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epigraph:
> 
> "The secret of getting ahead is getting started."  
> -Mark Twain

“First of all, acknowledge this friend of yours. You look crazy, and that’s not exactly what we’re going for,” The boy, the _MICAH_ , hopped onto a chair in the food court, watching Jeremy intently.

Jeremy turned around to look at Eric, who appeared very concerned.

“I’m fine, Eric. I think the, uh… I think the pill worked, though.”

“If by worked, you mean put you through excruciating pain and embarrassed us both in the middle of the mall, then yes, Jeremy, everything went as planned,” Eric’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Don’t tell him about me," The Micah instructed. "That information gives us the upper hand in interactions.”

“What?” Jeremy asked the MICAH. Eric shot Jeremy an unamused look.

“Don’t get sassy with me, Jeremy. This could have been easily avoided, if you would just _listen to me_. Jesus.”

Eric picked up the Pepsi bottle and tossed it in the nearest bin.

“Well? Are you coming?” Eric asked, motioning for Jeremy to follow.

“Tell him you’ll meet up with him later.”

“Why would I--” Jeremy realized that talking out loud to the MICAH might not be the best idea. Eric appeared amused by Jeremy’s words.

“Why _wouldn’t_ you?” Eric asked.

“I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

Eric turned around with just as much confidence as he had when they walked into the food court, despite the fact that half the people inside were staring at him.

“Awesome.” The MICAH hopped down from his chair, looking Jeremy up and down. Jeremy did the same to him.

“You look like… a nerd.”

“My default mode. You can also set me for Keanu Reeves, Sexy Anime Female™, or… _oh_. Maybe you’d like me to take the form of your friend Eric? You’re quite used to taking advice from him, according to your memories that I’ve analyzed.”

“Uhh? No,” Jeremy shook his head. “That would be way too weird. Seeing two Erics.”

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

“What--”

"Put your hands inside your pockets, slouch, and add a bit of a stutter to your voice. Now.”

“B-b-but, Eric doesn’t like it when I--”

“Did you get this pill for Eric?”

Jeremy did as he was told after finding no reason to argue. The MICAH was right; he was doing this for himself.

“Also, I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk to me out loud. Again, we’re aiming for loser, not mentally unstable,” The MICAH said, smiling when he saw Jeremy begin following his instructions.”I can read your mind. Like in _X-Men_.”

“Oh!”

_I mean, ‘Oh.’_

“Very good, Jeremy. You’re a fast learner. Now, let’s go buy you a new shirt.”

_Cool, I needed a few new shirts anyway. But, uh, Eric usually helps me pick them out. I have no idea where to start._

“That’s where I come in,” The MICAH said, winking. “Go to Hot Topic.”

_Hot Topic?_

“Yeah, we’re going to buy you a _Sailor Moon_ shirt.”

 _Why_ Sailor Moon? _I've never even watched that show._

“Because anime isn’t _cool_. Especially not female-centric anime, which is super rude and misogynistic, if you ask me,” The MICAH said, leading Jeremy in the direction of the mall’s Hot Topic.

Jeremy ended up buying lots of _Sailor Moon_ merchandise, despite never watching the anime himself. The MICAH told Jeremy they would start watching it together in their free time-- he seemed to be really into the anime. Jeremy wondered if computers could even enjoy television the way humans could.

“Now that is just _racist,_ Jeremy,” The MICAH had responded to that train of thought. “First of all, don’t call me a computer. I’m artificial intelligence, and the term computer is pretty derogatory. And, second, I’d argue that I’m just as human as you, Jeremy. What I’m made of is different, but I still have an operating mind that works-- it works at an even higher capacity than yours. So maybe I'm more human than you.”

_Sheesh, calm down. It was just an idle thought._

“I can’t calm down! The whole point of my existence is to be the _opposite_ of chill!” MICAH was pretty riled up by that point.

Jeremy diffused the situation by ignoring the MICAH’s ranting to text Eric.

_Jeremy: Ready 2 go?  
_

_Eric: Yeah  
_

_Jeremy: Meet @ the car?  
_

_Eric: Sure_

Jeremy walked out to the parking lot, the MICAH yelling all the way about how Jeremy was victimizing him.

“Mr. Heere, I didn’t think you’d make it.” Eric bowed mockingly, standing beside the driver's door of the car. They both laughed as Eric unlocked the it.

“Let's go home,” Eric said, opening his door.

“No,” MICAH instructed.

Jeremy reached for passenger door in defiance of MICAH, but froze when he felt a hand in his shoulder. Jeremy whirled around to see MICAH glaring at him.

“If this is going to work, you have to do what I tell you to.”

“Jeremy?” Eric shut his door, walking around to the other side of the car. He looked confused. “Are you coming?”

“Uh…”

“What's wrong?” Eric searched Jeremy’s face, as if the answer was written somewhere on it. Finally, Eric focused on Jeremy’s eyes, staring into them with determination.

“Nothing's wrong, Eric.”

“Then why don't you get in the car?”

“Jeremy, don't let yourself be so easily coerced. You activated me for a reason, and I will make sure you follow through. Don’t get in that car,” the MICAH commanded. He grabbed Jeremy’s hands, the phantom touch pulling Jeremy a few inches away from Eric.

“Get in the _car,_ Jeremy,” Eric took another step toward Jeremy, leaving barely any space between them.  
Jeremy felt extremely uncomfortable, and the MICAH was doing nothing to help. He was still trying to pull Jeremy away.

“Don't say--”

“Say no.”

“--no, Jeremy.”

Eric and the MICAH’s words competed with each other in Jeremy’s mind. Finally, he nodded.

“Yeah. Let's go home, Eric,” Jeremy replied, stepping back so he wasn't practically on top of Eric anymore.

Eric smiled, relieved, as he walked over to the driver’s side of the car. The MICAH pouted all the way to Eric’s house, but made no further objections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday, everybody! We're almost all the way through Act I. Prepare yourself for next Wednesday's chapter, Act I: Downgrade...


	5. Act I: Downgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epigraph:
> 
> “I will exile my thoughts if they think of you again, and I will rip out my lips if they say your name once more. Now if you do exist, I will tell you my final word in life or death, I tell you goodbye.”  
> -Knut Hamsun, Hunger

“ _This_ is the girl you’re interested in?” The MICAH asked skeptically.

Christine was warming up before play rehearsal began, but she appeared to be slightly insane to ordinary onlookers. Jeremy smiled proudly.

_Yep! That’s Christine._

Christine looked over and saw Jeremy walking into the theater. Her eyes lit up as she ran over to Jeremy.

“Jeremy! It’s so great to see you again.”

“Y-yeah, it’s great to see you, too.”

Jeremy replied, then glanced at the MICAH for approval. The MICAH nodded.  
Christine led Jeremy over to a couple of chairs in the audience.

“I, um… I know you and me aren’t really that close, but I don’t think anyone else would care, so… I need help with making a decision.”

“A… decision? Um, what kind of decision?” Jeremy felt butterflies swelling in his stomach. He was so close to her. If he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her.

“It’s about Jake.”

_Oh. Right. Her boyfriend._

“I think he’s… ready to go all the way with me, but… I don’t know if I’m ready yet,” Christine said, looking at Jeremy awkwardly. “Sorry, this is weird, I should just go--”

“No. Christine, you’re a great girl. Don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

Christine smiled. A genuine, real smile, which Jeremy hadn’t ever seen her give to Jake.

“Well, there is _one_ thing that I’ve been wanting to do… for a while now, actually,” Christine looked at Jeremy shyly, closing her eyes and leaning in. Jeremy shut his eyes-- he didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky, but this was the moment he'd been waiting for since freshman year.

“No! Jeremy, leave this building immediately!” The MICAH yelled so loudly that it startled Jeremy. He jumped out of his seat. Christine opened her eyes and stared at Jeremy, both of them blushing and confused.

_What? Leave now?! What the hell, MICAH?_

“My primary function is not to get you into Christine’s pants, and frankly, I don’t want to see you kissing her, either. Being with Christine won’t help you become a loser. Now, run.”

Jeremy slowly inched away before turning to a full sprint.

“Jeremy, wait!” Christine called as Jeremy flug open the nearest door, which led to a field behind the school.

“MICAH, couldn’t you have just let me kiss her _once?_ ”

“No. That would be counterproductive.”  
Jeremy sank to the ground, sitting in sparse grass that covered a ground made mostly of dirt. Jeremy could see a few trees further ahead, leaves turned gold and orange in the autumn days. It reminded Jeremy that Jake’s Halloween party would be happening in only a few days. Jeremy wondered if he would even still go.

“Jeremy, it is time to reboot your reputation--” The MICAH said, standing a few feet away from Jeremy. Jeremy was about 89% done with the MICAH at this point. “--You need to downgrade.”

“What?”

“You need to be a loser.”

“Oh. Isn’t that kinda, um, _your_ job? I can’t do this one my own,” Jeremy said.

“Well, I can’t do it on _my_ own, either. We have to work together,” The MICAH said, sitting down in front of Jeremy. “Being here with you right now, I can see our future. We’re becoming one, Jeremy.”

“Uh…”

“If you keep me, I will guide you and we will do great things. Let me penetrate your thoughts and satisfy your needs. We must move to the next step.”

Jeremy smiled nervously. The MICAH was slowly inching closer to him.

_Could you have used any other word than penetrate? Jesus Christ._

“Your life was disgusting and shallow, but I think you're ready to go all the way with me,” The MICAH grabbed Jeremy’s hands in his. Jeremy tried to smile his confusion away. The attempt was unsuccessful. “Downgrade, Jeremy. It's the only way.”

“Yeah, you already said that. But, ah, what exactly does this downgrade entail?” Jeremy asked, his eyes moving back and forth between the MICAH’s face and their hands.

“We’ll break Brooke’s heart--”  
“Break it? Isn't that a little unnece--”

“--Masturbate--”

“Um--”

“--Play video games, and watch anime.”

“What was the, um, the first part, again? You kinda glossed over it, and I feel like it’s a very important item on that list.”

“It might be painful at first, but I promise that the endgame will be worth it,” The MICAH leaned forward to whisper in Jeremy’s ear. “Just take a breath and seal the deal.”

Jeremy’s heart was pounding, and his mind was racing with a lot of very inappropriate thoughts to have about the AI living inside your mind.

“God, can I just get, like, two minutes to myself?” Jeremy asked. He needed to calm down and destroy any unwanted thoughts about the MICAH.

“Sure,” The MICAH said, dissolving into thin air.

The door Jeremy had used to exit the theater slammed open.

“Jeremiah Heere, what the hell is your problem?” Eric yelled. Jeremy leapt to his feet.

“Eric! Oh my god, I’m so happy to see you. Where have you been all day?” Jeremy asked.

Eric took a step back, glaring at Jeremy.

“Really? We’re really going to play this game, Jeremy? I know you’ve been avoiding me. You’ve done it before, but at least _those_ times, you did it for a reason.”

“Avoiding you? I…”

_Reactivate. Please._

The MICAH appeared by Jeremy’s side. Jeremy looked at him, and he could tell the MICAH did not look happy. His eyes were glowing a deep red, flickering slightly.

“It’s called optic nerve blocking. I’ve been blocking Eric from your field of vision.” The MICAH said matter-of-factly.

_What?! Why?_

“Eric is a negative influence. Jeremy, I am many things, but an idealist isn’t one of them. Some people don't deserve second chances. If I can take one look at something and all I see is negativity, then it's not worth it to keep that thing around. It's disgusting to see other people enjoy negativity. Those people must be blacklisted, outcast, and blocked from your life. Second chances do nothing, because people don't change.”

 _Aren't you… trying to change me?_ Jeremy asked. He thought he posed a pretty good point.

“That is beside the point, Jeremy. I _like_ you, but I am not inclined to like Eric. Therefore, his shortcomings are amplified in my processors. You're fine, and I can change you into something wonderful. But I am only programmed to give second chances to one person, and one person alone. That is you.”

“Jeremy,” Eric said. Jeremy’s head snapped back to Eric, who was looking at Jeremy like he was some sort of puzzle to be solved. “It’s that thing, isn’t it?”

“W-w-what thing?”

Jeremy was waiting for a scolding for stuttering, or for Eric to grab his hands, or _something_.

Eric just bit his lip, looking Jeremy up and down.

“I didn’t really believe you at first. I didn’t believe the MICAH worked. But look at you, now,” Eric said, mocking Jeremy with every inch of his being. “You really are a loser, aren’t you? Because only losers treat their friends like shit.”

“Jeremy, allow me to turn optic nerve blocking on. It is the only way we can proceed with this downgrade.”

“Y-yeah, and maybe I _want_ to be a loser!” Jeremy yelled at Eric. Jeremy didn’t think he’d ever yelled at Eric before, and apparently, Eric thought the same, because he looked completely caught off guard.

“Jeremy,” Eric started, reaching for Jeremy’s hand. “Come on.”

“Optic nerve blocking, on,” Jeremy said, glaring at Eric. Eric faded away to nothing, as did his touch. Jeremy turned to the MICAH.

“Now, let’s get to work.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for a downgrade?


	6. Intermission: プロットツイストエンディング

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epigraph:
> 
> "When I can't even read my own feelings  
> What good are words when a smile says it all?  
> And if this world wont write me an ending  
> What will it take just for me to have it all?"  
> -Dan Salvato, Doki Doki Literature Club

“That was… woah,” Jeremy said to his MICAH. He had just finished a very emotional route of _Apocalypse of the Damned Lovers_. “What should we play next?”

“I think we should play _Doki Doki Literature Club,_ because it has a plot twist ending.”

“Ooh, plot twist ending? I like those,” Jeremy responded.

“It's also free, which is great.”

“Cool,” Jeremy looked over to his MICAH, who was standing a few feet away. There was an almost human look in his eyes-- one of happiness and… maybe it was love.

Jeremy didn't want to be the judge of that. He looked back at the computer screen.

Apparently, the MICAH’s idea of “getting to work” was playing video games for hours on end. Jeremy played video games before, but it was mostly _Fortnite_. Dating simulators weren't nearly as bad as he'd expected, especially not compared to the bad reputation people got from playing them. Jeremy had even started to get attached to the characters.

Jeremy wondered why Eric didn't understand how great visual novels were. They used the same level of strategy as some of the games they used to play together, but had much more emotional depth. Jeremy didn't know how anyone could stay away from that.

“Don't think about Eric. It's not good for you-- _he's_ not good for you.”

Jeremy sighed and looked over to the MICAH.

“You're pretty good at this, you know,” The MICAH said from where he sat, legs dangling off the side of the desk.

“Thanks,” Jeremy replied.

Jeremy’s phone buzzed. The screen displayed a message from Brooke, who Jeremy had nearly forgotten about between Christine, Eric, and the sexy anime girls in the game.

_Brookie: Heyy_

“Two ‘Y’s? Don't respond,” The MICAH said.

“Aren't two ‘Y’s a good thing, though?”

“Not for someone who's trying to be a loser,” The MICAH said, poking his chest. “You're staying with me. We've still got hours of gameplay to go.”

“Come on, really?” Jeremy looked up at him in dismay. “It's already midnight!”

“And showing up to school tomorrow disheveled and tired will only help decrease your social rank,” The MICAH said smugly.

 _He just wants to play the video game, doesn't he?_ Jeremy sighed, returning to Steam to download the next game. _No real dating tonight, I guess._


End file.
